


i'm good when i'm good (when i'm bad, i'm better)

by jinkees



Series: thot line × yeosang [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Bickering™, Humor, M/M, Slight objectification, Smut, Spanking/Slapping, Threesome - M/M/M, also lowkey crack tbh so, consensual derogatory language, dom/sub dynamics, just a bit of, lapslock, woosan love bratty yeosang and so do i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24905170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkees/pseuds/jinkees
Summary: wooyoung and san treat yeosang to a lesson on manners.[follow-up tosink into the floor, but can be read as its own fic]
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung - Established Relationship, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Series: thot line × yeosang [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783987
Comments: 3
Kudos: 143





	i'm good when i'm good (when i'm bad, i'm better)

after a long day of schedules and cameras and touch-ups, all yeosang wanted was to stumble into bed and pass out. and despite rooming with wooyoung-- and by extension of that, wooyoung’s dolphin screams and giggle fits-- their room was more often than not the perfect environment to do so. peaceful and comfortable, cluttered in a charming way. in the evenings, wooyoung would make sure to keep the lights dim and play quietly on his phone, keeping any shrieking laughter to a minimum. all in all, it was good enough to lull yeosang to sleep even on his most insomnia-prone nights.

the sight greeting him now is... decidedly not that environment.

he hadn't even thought of knocking, and was shaken out of his tired stupor by the sight of wooyoung and san being themselves, to put it simply. all over each other, too rushed to take off their clothes or lock the damn door. at least it was on wooyoung’s own bed this time. 

yeosang rolls his eyes at the heavy-petting and goes to walk out. he needs to eat something anyway, so he figures he can just wait it out over some microwaved takeout, maybe a few rounds of mario kart with yunho--

"wait, yeosangie. you should stay," wooyoung calls to him, velvety voice uncharacteristically low and just loud enough for yeosang to hear it. he turns back around, keeping his eyes locked on wooyoung's to avoid looking at whatever san's _still_ doing to him. 

"stay?" yeosang asks, wavering in the doorway. it's not a bad suggestion, but if he takes a single step forward, there's no going back.

san nods along and finally turns on wooyoung’s lap to face yeosang, a devilish grin on his kiss-reddened lips. "yeah, remember last time?"

yeosang swallows. he does remember last time, and he also remembers all the times before that. of course he does; san and wooyoung are forces of nature that can't exactly be _forgotten_. still, it catches him off guard when either of them presents the offer, and they've gotten pretty good at doing so when he least expects it. like now.

he grapples for words to respond with, coming up with nothing as his nerves build. the confidence that san and wooyoung exude is intoxicating enough on stage; here, trapped in close quarters with them, it's almost debilitating.

"close the door, would you?"

yeosang does, taking that blind step forward in an instant. screw it, he figures; this should help him sleep plenty.

san hops off wooyoung's spread thighs-- god, those are distracting-- and pulls the other up from the rumpled bed covers. they're disheveled, half-buttoned shirts and unzipped pants and ruffled hair, and the matching smirks top it all off. a shared gaze rakes over him, and as burnt out as yeosang is, it kickstarts something powerful in his gut. before he can think of something, _anything_ , to say, they’re prowling towards him, pressing him closer and closer against the door. they're communicating something to each other, silently, and while most of the time the rest of the members can’t understand them whatsoever, yeosang hears this particular message loud and clear-- he waltzed into their den unannounced, and now he's their prey for the night.

the pair act deceptively sweet, kissing yeosang’s face and wrapping him up in a tight hug. the attempt at subterfuge isn’t nearly enough to mask the scent of sweat and need, the wound up tension in their hands as they paw at yeosang’s clothes, tempting him further. 

"he's so cute when he's confused,” san chirps, pinching yeosang’s cheek. he blinks once, twice, still winded by how quickly this had all unraveled.

"right? it's his eyes, they go all wide and pretty."

"don't forget the pout, woo."

"how could i ever do such a thing?"

part of yeosang wants to be offended at how they talk about him like he’s not there, but there’s no denying the way it makes him weak in the knees, helpless to their whims. lingering beneath the surface, he knows he likes being theirs to play with. when it comes to wooyoung and san, the closest to real life incubi that yeosang has ever seen, being prey isn't necessarily a bad thing.

they encircle him, wooyoung at his front and san behind. he melts into san's backhug, and the ease on his aching joints reminds him of why he even came here in the first place.

"i'm tired, you guys will have to do all the work," he half-heartedly warns, voice meek. he wishes he were less affected by just a few words and touches. shouldn't he have built up some kind of immunity by now?

"not a problem. you know we like taking care of our yeosangie,” wooyoung says, capturing yeosang in a heated kiss just a moment later. it’s so easy to lose himself in it, waves crashing on his willpower and exhaustion until nothing is left to defend against the tide. and he loves it, loves how easy it is for wooyoung and san to strip him down like this. the two must have perfectly memorized strategies to do so, because if wooyoung’s kiss is the tide, san’s kiss is the desert, scorching along his skin as they work together to strip yeosang of his loose hoodie and gym shorts. muscle memory takes over and does all the work for him, shifting and twisting into the attention he’s being lavished with.

when he reaches out to touch them, too, his hands are quickly restrained by san’s grip. he fights it, desperately wanting to rip away the layers between them so he can touch and see and taste. it’s useless to try and protest-- this is wooyoung and san he’s dealing with, after all-- but he thrashes until wooyoung stills him with a sharp bite to his lip.

"what about you two?"

they bark a laugh at the question, and wooyoung gives him a final peck before pulling away.

"we've been thinking about what you said on weekly idol," he begins.

oh no. oh _no._ he already went through this with seonghwa--

"and you know what? you were right," san says, hooking his chin over yeosang's shoulder. neither san nor wooyoung are that much taller than him, but like this, yeosang feels as if he's being towered over, pressed in from all sides. 

"if we're being honest, i don't even need revealing clothes to be hot, do i?" wooyoung asks, thumbing at the buttons of his shirt. and it’s true-- he really, really doesn’t. wooyoung’s face is more than enough to get yeosang going. but that doesn't compensate for the need for more; the smooth planes of wooyoung's thighs, the sinewy muscle of san's arms, the crude contact of skin on skin.

"go lay down, on your back,” san commands softly, nudging him forward with a playful push on the hips. yeosang moves quickly, hyper aware of the two following his movements, grazing every exposed part of him. that, and he's eager to see if they're on each other by now. 

facing them from the pillows, yeosang bites his lip to keep himself quiet. he’s completely enraptured by the display they're putting on for him, locked on to the slide of their tongues and nips of teeth and nails. unconsciously, he whines and grabs at the bed covers, stirring restlessly.

san pulls away, taking wooyoung's hand to lead them to the bed. they take a seat on either side of yeosang, combing through his hair and tracing his bare torso until he shivers. once more, he reaches out, only to be stopped by san. he tuts patronizingly at yeosang's defiant grumbling, and pins his hands back to the bed.

"ah, our precious yeosangie. it's so funny when you sit pretty and think you deserve something for it," san says, almost like he's just thinking aloud. he gives a nod to wooyoung, communicating something yeosang can't catch on to in the moment. admittedly, he doesn't really care what wooyoung's doing away from him, too focused on how he's half-hard and not far enough gone to beg. not yet.

"you're the one who asked me to be here," yeosang snaps back, thriving on the sharpness of san’s glare. the man was easy to rile up, even easier to taunt. 

before san is able to counter him, wooyoung returns to the bed, pants and boxers stripped away but his shirt still buttoned up to his collarbones. they both follow the way the fabric graces the dip of wooyoung's back, the rise of his ass.

wooyoung tosses a bottle of lube and a couple of condoms on the pillows, and there's a snide grin on his face when he tilts his head to look down at yeosang. "so you'd be fine if we stopped now, just let you go to bed?"

for some reason, it's difficult for yeosang to wind up wooyoung. maybe it’s the years of friendship and closeness between them, maybe it’s just that _jung_ _wooyoung c_ harm of his. whatever the reason, yeosang has never quite been able to get under the other’s skin, and never especially wanted to, either. he folds easily, and shakes his head at wooyoung's proposal.

"that's what i thought. be good, baby."

he spies the bottle of lube in san's palm, and exhales shakily. _be good_. he could do that, at least for a little while.

there's a hum of appreciation when yeosang turns onto his stomach, raising up on his knees and presenting himself to them. he delights in the way he _knows_ they're looking at him, how this simple act can make them that much hungrier for him.

"much better, baby," san says, massaging at yeosang's thighs and the swell of his ass. a few messy kisses up his spine, probably from wooyoung, and yeosang melts into the mattress before san can even trace his rim. he lets out little mewls at the distant burn of san fingering him open, taking his time with it. his cock twitches whenever his prostate is brushed against, and humiliation simmers in his gut once he realizes they can see it so clearly-- they can see _all_ of him like this. 

his lower half drops to the bed when san pulls his fingers out, and yeosang whimpers at the empty feeling.

the bed shifts, and he's lifted up to sit on his knees. wooyoung and san crowd the space in front of him, and they're looking at yeosang like he's their last meal, like they're going to simply devour him whole.

"who do you want, baby?" san asks, idly rubbing wooyoung's inner thighs, teasing as he waits for answer. his eyes are shining, excited.

yeosang knows there's no wrong answer to the question, but he hesitates nonetheless.

everyone knew wooyoung and san were a two-for-one deal considering how clingy and obvious they were. even with yeosang joining them, they're attached at the hip, on a whole different wavelength. and looking at the couple in front of him, yeosang feels like he's hit the jackpot. it's precious, in its own special way; being able to see them so intimately, to be taken care of by his closest friends. that's all yeosang ever wants, really.

"both, i-- i want to fuck you, and i want sannie to fuck me. please, want you both," yeosang pleads. he gives his best puppy eyed pout, and internally revels in the way they practically drool over it.

"fuck, you can't just say things like that," san groans, dropping his head against wooyoung's shoulder, who looks simply delighted by yeosang's suggestion-- maybe even a little proud. he pets yeosang's hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.

"i think we can arrange that."

it takes an awkward fumble of limbs and giggles and rolling on condoms before they manage to get into place, but yeosang is happy to find himself sandwiched between them, wooyoung's legs clamped around his waist and san pressed flush against his back. 

"this bed is way too small," san grumbles, repositioning himself for more leverage. the movement jolts them all, and yeosang curses lowly at the thought of what awaits him.

"how do you feel yeosangie? ready for us?" wooyoung asks, cupping yeosang's chin. he leans into the touch, and a pleasant tingle travels down his spine when san strokes his hair, kisses the shell of his ear.

yeosang is sure that he would never _really_ be ready for them, but he nods anyway and basks in the reassuring smile he gets in return. briefly, he wonders how he had never even considered threesomes before wooyoung and san. it's warm and safe and loving in the midst of things, and yeosang found himself to be quite a fan of being spoiled.

he's drawn out of his thoughts by san lightly tugging at his hair, the moment turned sharp in an instant.

"c'mon, then," wooyoung whispers. he looks devious, eyes dark and glittering in the warm lamp light. he accentuates the command with a shimmy of his hips, and yeosang slides home easily with a deep sigh. wooyoung drags him down into a rough exchange of tongue and spit while san trails paths with his tongue up and down the side of his neck, and yeosang feels that he could honestly do this hours; unravel between them, ravishing by them.

he bucks into wooyoung once, twice, and is just as quickly stopped by them both holding him in place. 

"no, no moving from you. we're doing all the work, remember?" san says, smoothing his palms along yeosang’s back, down to cup his ass, and pushing himself in. the dual sensations-- tight heat of wooyoung, dizzying stretch of san-- overwhelm his senses in an instant, and he falls limply against wooyoung’s chest with a choked grunt. 

and when san starts to move with deep, fluid rolls of his narrow hips, yeosang _weeps_. “oh, god.”

“good?” wooyoung asks with a breathy laugh, clearly entertained by how fucked out yeosang already is. yeosang doesn't even know how to explain how _good_ this is. san’s movements drive him forward, allow him to shallowly fuck into wooyoung, who meets him halfway. then there's how they touch him-- insistently kissing and gripping and kneading at bare flesh, staking their claim. yeosang's jaw hangs as he adjusts to all the stimulation at once, and he's oddly grateful for the slow pace san has set for them.

wooyoung breaks first. he reaches out to pull at san’s belt loop, pants and briefs simply pushed down his thighs in the rush to get inside yeosang.

"sannie, baby, go faster. i’m dying down here."

“faster? i would love to, but yeosangie wouldn’t want me to over-exaggerate my hips, now would he? we all know how much he hates _that_.”

of course san was going to bring it up, too. they must have planned this, one of their many devilish schemes.

wooyoung shrugs in defeat. "well, if that's what he wants, i suppose i can deal."

"fuck-- fuck you," yeosang grits through his teeth, barely suppressing an abrupt moan when san surprises him with a harsh thrust. his brow furrows as he squints his eyes shut, and he clenches the fabric of wooyoung's button-up more tightly.

"uh oh. you better watch out sannie, he's getting pretty mad," wooyoung snickers, only laughing more when yeosang raises up to smack at his chest. he swipes yeosang's hands easily, intertwining their fingers.

"that's adorable,” san coos, leaning down to press a wet smooch to yeosang’s cheek. “why are you so cute, huh?”

"you should see him from here, he's blushing so much,” wooyoung continues. he boops at yeosang’s cheeks and nose, and it should _not_ turn yeosang on more but it _does._ at this point, any kind of touch might be the one to push him over the edge. he’s trying his best to keep control of himself, to _be good_ , moving in tandem with san’s tortuous pace and resisting the carnal urge to fuck into wooyoung however he feels like.

“i never- i never said i hated the hip thing,” yeosang says, but his attempt at a steady voice dwindles into a high whimper as san pinches his nipple, wooyoung following it with a kitten lick. a coordinated attack-- yeosang should have expected as much. "please, want it faster."

san dots his shoulders with more kisses, seemingly pleased with him. the steady drag of his cock is still torturously slow.

“how much do you want it, hm? tell us, baby," wooyoung says.

"god, just fuck me. want-- want it so bad," yeosang begs, ignoring the desperate edge to his own voice. he doesn't have the strength to be prideful right now, split between them like this.

san huffs in his ear, still refusing to speed up. "sangie, no offense, but that wasn't cute at all."

"yeah, you even forgot san's name."

“i mean, ‘god’ is fine by me-- ow! woo, you know i’m sensitive there,” san yelps, taking his hand away from yeosang’s hip to rub where he was pinched.

wooyoung mimes san’s whining with an exaggerated pouty face, and if yeosang weren't currently overstimulated and frustrated and overall _very_ preoccupied mentally, he probably would have laughed at the exchange.

"he's so annoying, isn't he?" wooyoung says under his breath with a playful roll of his eyes. yeosang nods in agreement, and san reaches around to pinch them both, squawking a, " _hey_ , i'm right here.”

 _be good_. he really, really wanted to be good. but wooyoung and san are easily distracted and immature and yeosang is tired and god _dammit_ he wants this to happen. so before some playground fight can happen while yeosang is still very, very much in-between them, he throws the whole 'being good' thing to the wind.

"i couldn't tell, considering how fucking slow you are,” yeosang mutters. he jolts when san spanks him in retaliation, but it’s never not worth it to get on his nerves.

there are many versions of san that yeosang loves; cutesy san with the dimpled smile, performance san with the explosive stage presence, just-woken-up san with the spiky hair and sweet, high voice.

but then there’s pissed off, horny san, with a quick temper and deft hands and a track record of fucking the brains out of yeosang (and/or wooyoung) when pushed far enough. yeosang especially wants to see that version make an appearance tonight.

"ooh, bratty. i like it,” wooyoung says, rewarding yeosang with a slip of his tongue and a cruel roll of his hips. it rips a moan out of yeosang's throat, and he couldn't hold back his own movements if he even tried.

"don't encourage him," san whines, giving up on trying to still yeosang and concentrating his efforts on wooyoung instead, anchoring his hips flat to the sheets. 

"why? you can't handle both of us?"

even in his overwhelmed state, yeosang manages to chuckle at that. watching, or rather, _feeling_ san's willpower crumble was a treat, and wooyoung was an expert at pushing san's buttons, all the while daring him to push back. wooyoung’s cocky about it, too, a knowing raise of an eyebrow attached to his smirk.

something in the air shifts, and san doesn't reply. his silence hangs in the room-- yeosang's breaths come heavier as he waits, and being unable to see the man's expression excites him even more.

a groan is punched out of both himself and wooyoung when san shoves yeosang down, resting his torso on yeosang's back and his hands on either side of wooyoung's shoulders. the weight bearing down makes wooyoung hiss, but yeosang is more than content being crushed between them this way. he curses when san pulls out of him, teases the head of his cock against yeosang's hole. 

“you’re a slut, yeosangie," he drawls. "couldn't be patient, even had to drag woo into it."

yeosang nods, jolts as if electrocuted when san spanks him once more. it's a wordless demand, and yeosang fulfills it quickly.

"i'm sorry, i just-- i like it so much, like being your slut."

wooyoung shudders beneath him when yeosang is pushed forward, san's manhandling angling him just right.

"and you like being used like this, don't you? that's so greedy, baby. needing two people to make you come."

before he can get spanked again, yeosang blubbers a mix of _yes_ and _please_ and _use me_ , not stopping until san shuts him up with a jack-hammer pace. noise fills the room to the brim; the creak of the bed frame, shared breaths and moans, the perverse clap of san's defined hipbones hitting the soft flesh of yeosang's ass.

wooyoung isn't left untouched at the bottom of their pile; san slips a hand between them to tug at his leaking cock, drawing out the sweetest whimpers.

"how this, woo?"

“much better, ah-- fuck, so good. what do you say, baby?” wooyoung pants, tugging at yeosang's hair to get his attention.

yeosang gasps out a “thank you", and bites down on wooyoung's collarbone when san pistons even harder into him.

the sounds wooyoung make flow directly into yeosang's ear, and he can tell the other is close. he marks up wooyoung's chest with blooming pinks and purples, tearing the buttons open for more room to work.

"shit, just like that. so good for me," wooyoung mewls. he comes with a strained cry, soiling the front of his shirt, and yeosang's cock twitches at the sight. he slots himself as deeply as possible inside wooyoung, and the vice-like squeeze around him makes yeosang go blank, completely overwhelmed.

he arches back against san and twists his neck to kiss him, a sloppy affair that san lazily moans his approval of. he feels more grounded like this, with san's arm strapped across his chest. san is even more fiery with the closeness, biting his ear lobe and tugging at his nipples just to see him flinch.

he distantly hears wooyoung praising them, enjoying the view. yeosang quakes at the attention, sharply inhaling whenever wooyoung so much as brushes his fingertips over him.

a garbled wail escapes him when wooyoung wraps his fingers firmly around the base of yeosang's cock, the snug ring more on the side of painful than pleasurable. 

"i'm surprised you didn't come first, baby. is this not enough for you?" wooyoung asks. his face is flushed a pretty pink, his lips shining with spit, and yeosang closes his eyes. it's too much. he wants to give wooyoung everything, wants to give them _both_ everything he has.

"no, no, just wanna be good for you and sannie. please, i'm so close--"

wooyoung silences him by shoving three fingers in his mouth, his other hand still tight around his cock. yeosang is helpless, and sucks on the digits to get his message across.

"you'll come when sannie tells you to then, right? like a good slut?"

yeosang nods, gasps out a _yes_ when wooyoung's fingers leave his mouth with a wet pop.

the hand around his cock strokes him languidly, the touch barely there, and yeosang clenches around san. the fast pace stutters, just the slightest bit, and yeosang pushes back into the more unrestrained thrusts. san groans, mindlessly tongues at yeosang's neck as he loses control of himself.

"come for us, baby."

it's like a bow snaps inside of him, and yeosang sobs through low moans as he releases into wooyoung's hand. san pulls out to tie off the condom after a moment of catching his breath, and they promptly slump onto wooyoung.

wooyoung wheezes at the dog pile on top of him, but still tries his best to hug them before squeezing out from under. he takes off his shirt, stripping what little clothing is left hanging off san as well. yeosang rolls over to get san off his back, and closes his eyes as soon as his head hits the pillow. san cuddles him close, and yeosang indulges in a few sweet kisses; as much he liked san taking him from behind, he didn't like missing out on this part during the act.

the room goes dark, and yeosang is tucked under a light blanket. he barely reacts as they move him around, completely blissed out. he vaguely registers the warmth his face is resting on, and figures it's san's chest. wooyoung sidles up behind, arm draped over yeosang's waist to reach san. 

yeosang once again feels the pull of sleep, much more intense than when he first came home, and doesn't even try to resist it.

"we did a number on him, huh?" wooyoung sighs, nuzzling into the nape of yeosang's neck. he's not wrong-- yeosang had never felt more weightless and thoughtless. he sighs a sound of contentment, too tired to string together a sentence.

"yeosangie, you in there? anyone home?" san asks, and there's a gentle tapping on the crown of yeosang's head. yeosang murmurs unintelligibly in reply and burrows under the pillow to shield himself from more bothersome knocking.

"i think we fucked him dumb," san chuckles.

yeosang rolls his eyes when he hears what definitely sounds like a victorious high five above him, and withdraws from hiding to glare at them.

"shut up," he whines, not able to fully hide the crack of embarrassment in his voice. the two merely coo at him some more, decorating his skin with butterfly kisses and tickles until yeosang laughs.

"love you,” they both whisper, poking yeosang’s cheeks and repeating themselves until he says it back. he mumbles a quiet good night, and passes out easier than he has in eons.

**Author's Note:**

> my original plan was to write three fics for thot line × yeosang, but tbh i mentally cannot separate woosan, hence the ot3 fic. i had a lot of fun writing this though, and i think that shows pretty clearly in the writing?? so i hope that makes up for this series only having two parts :,)
> 
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/jinkees) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/jinkees3000?s=09) in case you feel like sending me something~


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